


What Time Are We Upon And Where Do I Belong?

by Stone_Princess



Category: Weetzie Bat Series - Francesca Lia Block
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-14
Updated: 2006-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-25 06:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1637687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stone_Princess/pseuds/Stone_Princess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a magic carpet ride Witch Baby finds, loses and finds herself again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Time Are We Upon And Where Do I Belong?

**Author's Note:**

> Heaps and heaps of thanks to Technosage and Joyfulgirl41 for fixing up story. All remaining mistakes are my own. I love you ladies! And thanks to Piscaria for her request, for making me love these books all over again.
> 
> Written for Piscaria

 

 

_Dear Niña Bruja,_

Everyone here misses you. The lemon trees don't smell the same, the jacaranda blossoms aren't quite as bright, even Weetzie's cooking doesn't taste quite as good when you aren't here to share it.

Cherokee has news for you when you finally get home, but I can tell you that she and Raphael are building their own little house where the teepee used to stand. Raphael, Valentine, Dirk, Drake, Duck and My Secret Agent Lover Man have all been out scavenging beautiful new windows for them. Maybe someday you and I will build something nicer than the shed for us?

Write me, or call me to tell me where you, where you are going. My heart truly does feel like you are on the other side of the world, even when I don't know exactly where you are. Maybe you can play some wa-daiko _while you are Japan. I will imagine you beating the world's pulse on a giant taiko drum. Please take care of yourself, panther girl, and come back to us all soon._

Yo Te Amo, Brujita,  
Angel Juan

***

When she'd first gotten on the plane for the long, long ride across the ocean she'd been sad, scared, already missed her almost-family and her soul-mate Angel Juan. She was tired from worrying for the whole flight that when she'd touched down in Japan she felt almost sick from nerves, jangling like the skeleton charm bracelet she wore. Excitement, giddiness, even happiness filled her, though, as she walked through airport, took a cab to meet her hosts. Everything was different, electric, modern and yet she was sure she felt magic in the air. She wasn't just tracing her fingers around the paper globe lamp at home anymore, she was going to fly around the world and see all those places.

In Japan, she first went high into the mountains, where the sky was paler and somehow closer than the sky she knew in L.A. Under it, she photographed beautiful Geishas in shining silk kimonos sitting in snow storms of cherry blossom petals. Their hair was black, and smooth like the lacquer on the Chinese stacking boxes Weetzie had on her vanity. Witch Baby's own hair seemed to tangle more, twisting around itself when presented with such straight, polished coiffures. The birds woven into the silks they wore looked so real, like they might just start singing from the shoulders of the lovely Geishas, like they might fly off into the blossom storm.

The pretty Geisha girls let her capture their complicated tea ceremonies on film. Then she drank the tea, letting the strange taste, which was as pretty as the ladies looked, roll over her tongue. She ate with them: bite-sized pieces of sushi, unrecognizable fried fishes, lotus-y sweet vegetables and rice, rice, rice.

When she came down from the mountains as high as heaven into the city, Witch Baby photographed smiling schoolgirls, lined up in rows, in matching uniforms, like tiny, shining superhero sailor girls from strange cartoons her almost-mother Weetzie had sometimes let them watch when they were little. She took endless pictures of the huge crowds in the streets of Tokyo, trying to capture the individual people, take some tiny piece of their lives.

When she left she took a little bit of everything in Japan with her, in her heart, in her head. It was so much, Witch Baby wondered if maybe she didn't have to leave something of herself behind to make all these memories fit.

Departing, Witch Baby felt sure she'd finally found her magic carpet, that it was taking her to see things so amazing she'd never even dreamt of them. She called Angel Juan from the airport, but she got the time difference all wrong and he was asleep when called.

"Brujita, you are so far away, I can't even hear you." His voice, still scratchy from sleep, made her toes curl up in her cowboy boots and, just for a second, she wished she could touch him, could not be across an ocean. "I'm glad you are having fun, but still I miss you. And be careful. There are so many things in the world that can hurt you."

She felt sad when she hung up, missing Angel Juan, not being able share all of this with him. But he'd wanted to go college, even when Witch Baby hadn't. So she'd taken the money they had from the monster movie they'd made in honor of her grandfather, Charlie Bat, and bought a ticket to Japan to start seeing what else was in the world besides her beautiful, funky, crazy family, besides her almost-almost uncles, Meadows and Mallard, besides her sad real mother, and her finally happy dead grandfather.

***

_My Witchiest of Babies,_

I hope you are having fun discovering the world. We all miss you so much. I am sending a few things to remind you of home so you will not forget us while on your adventure.

Even though we miss you, everyone here seems happy. We are making our home bigger, expanding. My Secret Agent Lover Man's new movie is going well. Did he tell you before you left, it's about a genie girl who only grants wishes that change the world! He's having a hard time finding a beautiful enough, purple-eyed actress. Maybe you'd like to be in another movie when you come home to us?

We celebrated the arrival of spring with dancing, food and almost everyone we love. Even Darlene came and brought Duck's flock of siblings. Brandy-Lynn smiled when she danced and whispered to me that she dreams of Charlie now, of how happy he is. She doesn't cry anymore when she fingers her locket.

Dirk and Drake are happy too. Surfing is extra good this year and we hardly ever see them, since they are off in the waves and the sun all the time.

Coyote wanted to tell you to be careful, to remember to honor all the spirits where ever you are. He says spirits can be tricky and strange in other places and that you will need them to help you keep all the pieces of yourself. I'm not sure exactly what he means, but I'm sure it will make sense to you.

Angel Juan is doing so well in his classes. College seems exciting and I think I'm driving him crazy always trying to find out about what he's working on, or looking over his shoulder at what he's reading.

Come home soon. We love you, little witchy, lily-flower girl.  
Weetzie

***

In Laos and Cambodia, Witch Baby went to cities with names that sounded like music, like Luang Prabang and Kampong Cham. At home she'd always felt so tiny around her almost family and the golden people of California, but here everyone was small and skinny like her. Only her twisty, snarly hair, tilty purple eyes and pale, pale skin made her stand out. She went with families in boats down rivers to markets filled with fruits and vegetables she'd never seen before. Witch Baby ventured into jungles that were bright, neon green, fantastical like the jungles her real mother, Vixanne Wigg, would sometimes paint. But they weren't the south American jungles of Angel Juan's dreams and stories. They weren't the jungles of Witch Baby's imagination. They were new, different, full of other stories. The skies above them were brighter and bluer than any Witch Baby knew. As if everything here must be sharper and more dazzling than anywhere else.

The strange, fairytale jungles were full of little boys with shimmering cinnamon-colored skin, so like Angel Juan's, even though Mexico was very far away. Witch Baby photographed them peeking out from fairy-tale temples and palaces buried deep in the wild jungles. She shot them hanging from giant vines, like huge living ropes. Vines that tangled like Witch Baby's own dark hair. With her camera, she captured the children next to the elaborate carvings of their ancestors on the temple walls.

Witch Baby ate soft, chewy egg rolls. She ate noodles of all sizes and flavors out of big bowls while she sat with the families of the little cinnamon boys. Everyone was so nice, so friendly but Witch Baby started to feel a little hollow, even when filled up with delicious banh pho, the noodles of life and love. Everyone here was so poor, even as happily as they smiled at her, she thought she could see terrible hurt in their eyes, especially the children. It was like the land that fed them had pain in its very soil.

She told herself it was just from traveling, just from the sun being in a different place, the wrong stars, the new food, but she knew it was something else. She knew there was real hurt all over the world. All her life, even when she was a small child, she'd cut the pictures of it from the newspapers. She'd read about every kind of tragedy that befell people and here she was now, inside of it. And she couldn't fix it with the money she had. She couldn't change it. She could only document it with her camera for the rest of the world to see. And she knew that was important, but she could already feel the sadness, the hurt of the people in this extraordinary land seeping into her bones.

When she left SE Asia, it was still a magic carpet ride, but Witch Baby began to realize that the newspaper articles were maybe more real than she'd guessed. She knew the rest of the world wouldn't have the busy prosperity of Tokyo, the calm beauty of the Geishas. She'd known, but she had to learn all over again that a magic carpet ride could be as dangerous as wishing on a genie's lamp. You had to be careful what you wished for.

***

_Hi Witch Baby,_

Who'd ever thought I'd miss you so much? We've been so busy here. We're building a new house in the Canyon next to our parent's so we will all always be together! But still it feels a little emptier here without you. Raphael says to tell you to come home soon.

I know Angel Juan misses you terribly. He doesn't talk about it, only tells me about his classes, about school, but I can hear it behind his words. Weetzie says it's behind his eyes. Your dad, Dirk and Duck (my dads!) are all so busy with the new movie that they can't really distract Angel Juan. I try some times but it never seems to work.

We have big news, too! It seems silly to say something when I'm not going to tell you what, but I know you'll come back to us soon soon soon and you can hear it then.

love your almost-sister,  
Cherokee

***

Thailand was full of beautiful princesses dressed in giant, shimmering head-dresses and bright colors just waiting to be remembered on film. Even some of the boys were princesses, lady-boys they called them. All thin and beautiful like Thai movie star Lankas. Witch Baby could only imagine how much her almost-family would love to dance and eat in this dreamlike place. A young girl taught her the five fundamental tastes: sweet, spicy, sour, bitter and salty. She found lemon grass soup, vegetables with fish sauce and peanuts and chilies like none she'd ever had. In every town she found markets filled with new foods to be discovered, with stunning children ready to take her hand and show her whatever treasures they had in their small village.

She photographed giant, unbelievable sculptures carved from fruits and vegetables on the Queen's birthday. She prayed with people she met at Theravadin Buddhist temples. Thailand was bright neon and ancient magic and Witch Baby felt herself filling up with it. But for all the bright beauty, she saw more and more hungry children separated from their families by tsunamis, earthquakes and poverty. It seemed the more suffering there was the brighter the colors and celebrations around her were. Even the sky was too brilliant to look into for long here, making her eyes hurt along with her heart.

India was worse. A breathtaking, magical kingdom filled with elephants dressed like kings, Goddesses with many arms, temples, jungles and broad red desserts. Cities bigger even than New York, or at least more crowded. Mouth-watering paneer, ghee and naan. Samosas exploding with peas, so like and yet unlike the ones she used to share with Angel Juan back home. So much beauty, sparkle, tinsel and glittering gold, but everywhere were little children begging, their hands or feet lost to a sicknesses Witch Baby didn't even understand. Under the bright smiles, their eyes were old, ancient already with suffering and loss.

The skeleton bracelet on her wrist jangled as she danced to Indi-pop with slinkster-cool Indian boys dressed in shiny suits. She saw Bollywood movies in theatres full of women in rich, colorful saris. She photographed elephants walking though villages with their masters. She and her camera watched as gorgeous Indian-Lanka brides had their hands painted in too complicated, too lovely mehndi designs.

The bright sari colors sparkled in the corners of her eyes, but her dreams were full of sad children, living in temples, without parents, without safety. She couldn't go anywhere without seeing pretty little dark-haired children, hair tangled like her own, who needed love. Witch Baby wondered if she had enough love for all of them, if anyone did.

It took effort to do almost anything but Witch Baby made it to the Consulate office in New Delhi and found a packet of letters waiting for her. Weetzie had sent her a small book, filled with pictures of everyone pasted in with angels, flowers and stars. Even the pages smelled like California, like home, like love. Witch Baby wanted home so badly it felt like she herself had lost a hand, lost her heart. Dark-eyed children cried out in her dreams now. She knew all she could do was find a way to tell their stories, to show their eyes to people so someone could come help them. But she couldn't do anything here. She had to go home.

***

_My Lamb,_

It's so hard not having you here. I hope you come back to me soon. Everyone sends their love.

School is keeping me busy. There's so much to learn. I try to distract myself with it but still I feel empty morning when I wake up without you next to me. My heart still beats to the rhythm of your drums. I hope you still playing the heart of the world on whatever magical drums they have wherever you are now.

Soon we will have a giant party to celebrate the new house we made and the new movie which is almost done. I hope you are here when we do so I can dance with you under the jacaranda trees.

Yo Te Amo, Niña,  
Angel Juan

***

The flight to New York City was an endless void of thrumming vibration. Witch Baby couldn't find a beat in it and she knew she was losing the heartbeat of the world. She'd never felt so lost, even when she wasn't sure where she belonged in family as a small child. She wanted home, but she'd gone far she felt she couldn't go right back. She'd rushed away, full of excitement, looking for joy. Now she was so broken and full of hurt that she wanted to crawl back slowly, sneak up on the people who might now never understand her, understand what she'd seen.

Her almost-almost uncles, Meadows and Mallard, picked her up at the airport and took her to eat in the City. Walking through the grey streets of New York, they felt like angels, flanking her either side and as they ate, Witch Baby could feel love warming her up. She tried to tell her friends about everything she'd seen but it came out jumbled.

"Did you meet any ghosts in your travels?" Mallard asked. As a professional ghost hunter, he traveled a lot himself.

"It seems everything, everywhere is ghosts," Witch Baby answered, worried she wasn't making sense, but Mallard and Meadows nodded solemnly. They took her for ice cream after dinner and she couldn't help but feel shocked by the normalcy of it all after every place she'd been.

Food, ice cream and so much travel, suddenly Witch Baby was so tired she couldn't even remember the walk back to the apartment in the meat-packing district. It felt like a maybe-dream when Meadows brushed his hand over her tangled hair as she curled up on the piled Persian pomegranate garden carpets that filled their home. She was sure though, that she heard Meadows whisper, "It's time to go home, little Lily. They need you and you need them."

The next morning they ate warm cinnamon raisin bagels and her would-be uncles took the subway with her to pick up her rental car. It wasn't slinkster cool like Dirk's red '55 Pontiac, Jerry. Or like Grandpa Bat's old T-bird convertible that he used to drive Brandy-Lynn around in when she was a beautiful movie star, before her eyes were always filled with tears. The car was plain and new, but serviceable and Witch Baby set off, only a little nervous about driving so far all alone.

***

_To our pancake dancer stowawitch,_

Come home soon. We want you here to share the waves with us, to play the beats we can dance to in the evening. Weetzie misses you so much we can see sadness in her eyes and Angel Juan is lost without you. Everyone is worried that we haven't heard from you in so long. I hope you are finding joy in the things you are seeing. We will walk on the beach with you soon.

Sending the love of all the angels,  
Dirk (and Duck)

***

Witch Baby had always thought of America as home. She planned to drive slowly through the back highways and get comfortable there again as she drove home. She hadn't been prepared for how different everything was going to be from the California she really knew as home. Everything was pressing and squishing together now, she had so many memories of far away places crushing down the new memories of this America she'd never even known existed.

In West Virginia the New River Gorge was spectacular and amazing, dropped down from the green, cloud-covered mountains. The camera caught the greying old wooden homes in the woods. She took pictures of coal miners covered in the grey dust of their work, their children clean-scrubbed and holding their parents' hands. She talked to kids who taught her the word "bituminous" and didn't seem to think they could aspire to more than the lives their parents' had. She saw the down-trodden in old, worn-down shacks just down the road from the giant new mansions of the wealthy looking for new life in the country.

Tennessee was bright, wide skies and smoky, blue mountains rolling down in the sloping green hills that fell away in the basin before the reddish dirt flattened everything out. Memphis on the river wasn't a new-made Egyptian city on the Nile of America. The city wound around the Mississippi and was filled with old rock n'roll kings. She saw Graceland and was shocked at the normalcy of the place. All the magic of it seemed to have gone when its former owner died. The pictures piled up, old diners, Elvis' former karate studio, the river and the city. Wrinkled, dapper-dressed, slinkster-cool old men smiled at her on the street and Witch Baby smiled back, but she knew the smile didn't reach her tilter purple eyes. She was just too tired. Outside the city she found playing children with bright smiles and skin dark as the richest chocolate, playing soccer barefoot in a dirt lot, dancing around broken glass as they kicked the ball. She ate fried chicken, collard greens and okra until her toes curled inside her boots and she felt too full to even drive on.

Texas was wide and empty. She passed through Beaumont and Dillon, towns that looked so lost, you could almost see which direction the money went when there were no more oil rigs for little children's fathers to work on. She caught the lost look in the eyes of parents who just couldn't provide for their loved ones the way they'd once hoped. She took pictures of studious children walking to church in east Texas, poor but well scrubbed and pink cheeked. She snapped broken-down cowboys in roadhouses, drinking their troubles away to slow country songs. Dirty cowboys that were startling contrast to colorful bright rodeo men who rode bulls and tamed horses in their clean, pressed dark-dyed jeans.

Witch Baby covered the snarls in her hair with a cowboy hat and smiled back at the good folks in roadside diners who nodded at her worn boots. But when she woke up in the morning to drive on, she felt like she was nothing but the picture of herself, in boots and hat. She'd filled her head with the memories of every place she'd been, her heart with the suffering of every lost and poverty-stricken child she'd seen in her travels. Witch Baby was empty, now, not sure there was anything left of herself. She felt even farther away from home than she had in Cambodia, even though she was finally so close now. There was too much violence, poverty and disease in the world and Witch Baby knew she'd taken too much of it in.

***

_Witch daughter of my heart,_

We all want you home with us so badly. I've been following your travels on the globe lamp you gave me so long ago, but I can't wait to hear you tell me about them.

We finished the genie movie, but it wasn't as good as it would have been with your help. I need your magic and gifts to help me really see my dreams.

Angel Juan is almost done with his first year of college. I can't believe it went by so quickly! I think Weetzie learned as much as he did. It's been very good for all of us, I think, though a little lonely without you to share in it.

Please call us, so we can hear your voice, so we know when you'll be back. Meadows and Mallard assure us you were well when you left New York, but everyone is a little worried.

You father,  
My Secret Agent Lover Man

***

When Witch Baby stopped for the night on the Hopi Reservation in Arizona she knew she was worn down. The whole world it seemed, even in America, was filled with lost children. All with the same dark, too-old eyes, whether it was India, Texas, Turkey or Cambodia.

There was a family her friend Coyote Dream Song knew and she was warmly welcomed when she arrived at their pueblos on Second Mesa. She ate warm flat bread with butter, sweet squash and crisp corn. Finally Witch Baby fell into a pile of bright, beautifully woven blankets.

The light was strangely blue when she awoke even though it felt like sunlight. Witch Baby rubbed the grit from her eyes, though her head still felt sticky and thick. She pulled her boots on and rolled her jeans down over them. When looked up there was small boy in the doorway. He had deep bronze skin that made him look like he'd been born of the desert itself. He beckoned to her with his hand and Witch Baby followed him without thinking.

Outside, it was as if the moon was bright as the sun or the sun had taken the color of the moon. Nothing moved, no breeze or the usual squeaking and chirping desert birds and critters. The rock and sand crunched beneath her boots, but the boy seemed to move silently across the dreamtime desert.

"Where are we going?" Witch Baby asked, jumping a little at how loud her own voice sounded in giant quiet.

 _Sipapu_. The boy said, but Witch Baby couldn't be sure he'd said it out loud.

They crossed the canyon to the high wall rising to make the mesa on the far side. The boy scrambled up steps like a ladder into a cave in the middle of the cliff face. Witch Baby followed him.

The cave was much larger than it looked from down below and filled with the strange adobe apartments the ancient people of the desert had lived in. The boy waited in a doorway, signaling with his hand for her to follow. And so she did.

Inside the first cave was Japan. Flashing by, almost like movie projection, but so clear and real looking, Witch Baby thought maybe she could step into it. She saw the pretty Geishas in the cherry blossom snow storms and the smiling schoolgirls and then it changed, got darker. She saw children begging in dirty parts of cities. Poor fishermen coming home to small villages with not even enough catch to feed their families, let alone to sell for rice or other things they needed.

"I can't see this again," Witch Baby said. Instead of answering the boy darted through the far door so she followed, trying to get away from the sadness.

The next few rooms passed rapidly, Witch Baby could barely stand to look, purple tears welling up in her purple tilty eyes as she saw Laos, Thailand, India. And the places she thought maybe were Turkey and Serbia, Afghanistan, and Russia. All the same, poverty, violence, loneliness, orphans left by natural disasters and war. Children sick and dying.

"No more, please," she sobbed.

The boy pointed back the way they'd come and Witch Baby turned and ran, not waiting for the boy to lead the way, not sure she could bear to pass all that horror again. In the very next room she stumbled on the raised lip of the doorway and fell flat on her face in the middle of the room. She got up slowly, wishing she could go back with her eyes closed, but when she looked around everything had changed. The same children were there, the same building turned to rubble by earthquake or war, but the children with laughing with real joy, kicking a ball around and people were sifting through the rubble in some places, taking out usable materials. The scene turned and shifted around her and she saw people building houses, children attending school on benches in grassy fields.

She walked on and in every room it was the same, people were smiling, building, planting, changing their lives. Even though they had so little everyone seemed happy. Soon she found herself standing on the cliff edge of the cave staring across the strange blue desert. She heard the boy behind her.

 _You can do this,_ he said. _Not alone and you can't help everyone, but you can make things change_.

"Come on, Witch Baby," he said, his voice sounding so much like Angel Juan's. But he never called her that name unless she was sick or it was something serious and bad. "Come back to me, Brujita."

Witch Baby opened her eyes. Angel Juan was combing his fingers through the snarls of her hair, her head resting in his lap as he looked down on her. Her head felt heavy as she raised it. An old woman she didn't recognize and their friend Coyote were standing across the room.

"You had a fever, my panther girl. The family here called Coyote and we came here to get you."

"We had healer come chant for you," Coyote said, sounding so serious like he always did. "He said your body was out of balance with the spirits of the world and we all sang for you until your fever broke."

Witch Baby remembered where she'd been, everything she seen and every thing wanted to do all at once.

"I have to help people," she said, struggling to get up. "We have work to do."

"You have to rest, Niña," Angel Juan said pulling her back down. "There is plenty of time. You can't do anything while you are sick and your soul is so tired. We will go home and you can tell me everything that happened."

Coyote wanted to stay and visit his friends for a while in the quiet of the desert, so Witch Baby and Angel Juan drove the rental car back to L.A. Well, Angel Juan drove, Witch Baby slept most of the way.

When they finally came to the house filled with fairy lights high in the canyon, Weetzie ran outside as soon as the car pulled up. She hugged Witch Baby and kissed her before Witch Baby was even all the way out of the car.

"We were so worried!" She said, kissing the corners of Witch Baby's purple genie eyes.

Inside the house Cherokee was so hugely pregnant that Witch Baby had to laugh. Cherokee hugged her, getting as close as the big bump would allow.

"We wanted to tell you in person," she said," but you took so long to come home we were afraid it might be too late!"

Duck, Dirk and My Secret Agent Lover Man and hugged and worried over Witch Baby. Slinkster Dog and Go-Go Girl ran around her legs as she was passed from person to person for more hugs.

"You have to tell us everything," everyone exclaimed.

"In the morning," Angel Juan said. "She still isn't better yet." And he led her to bed.

That night Witch Baby's dreams were all building and changing and gifts and love.

The sun was high in the sky when she woke up. She felt filled with joy to recognize the right blue of the sky, the familiar brightness of the sun, the proper birds singing, the perfect smell of lemon trees.

She went into the kitchen where her whole almost-family was gathered around the table looking through all the pictures Witch Baby had taken on her trip. Weetzie brought Witch Baby a plate of pancakes with maple syrup and butter and cleared a space at the table for her. Witch Baby ate in silence and no one spoke as they looked at each picture, sometimes passing a certain picture to someone else they thought needed to see it right away.

When they were done and Witch Baby had put her plate in the sink, she looked around. Weetzie had tears in her eyes and so did Duck and Cherokee. My Secret Agent Lover Man looked as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Dirk, Raphael and Brandy-Lynn looked so painfully sad.

"We have to help them," Witch Baby said. "Not all of them, but some, any, anyone we can." She felt desperate, empty, alone as she had when she was far away. It was quiet for a second and then everyone started talking at once.

"We will make movie to show everyone the world as you've seen it," My Secret Agent Lover Man said. "And all the money from it, we will send to help build better places for these kids."

"We can adopt some babies and bring them here for a better life," Weetzie said, tears still in her eyes. She looked at Cherokee who nodded and said, "We can bring them up just like we were, all together and loved by everyone." She had her hand on her huge belly.

"We will take a trip someplace every year and teach in schools and build houses and help change things. I will learn something in school to make this easier for us to help even more people," Angel Juan said, kissing Witch Baby's little ear under the snarls of her dark hair.

And Witch Baby knew, as she had for so long, that here was where she belonged, with her magical, incredible almost-family, who loved her enough to help her change the world.

 


End file.
